


Signature Move

by creates_god



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, They are high and having a great time, Trans Galo Thymos, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex, Weed, implied polyamory, straps, trans Gueira, trans author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:33:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22677208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creates_god/pseuds/creates_god
Summary: The two are both laughing now, and Galo only stops to take a good long hit. Gueira’s giggles are incessant, drawn out by the pleasant highs of both drug and release. He’s only muffled by Galo’s lips on his own, drawn into the same kind of kisses he’d given to Galo earlier. The smoke tastes sweeter now, somehow.As in, Galo and Gueira get high, and a little horny, and they go at it on the couch in Galo's living room.
Relationships: Galo Thymos/Gueira
Comments: 7
Kudos: 65





	Signature Move

**Author's Note:**

> For Ridley! I had SUCH a blast writing this. Galo/Gueira needs more content...The potential of their dynamic is too good. 
> 
> Galo and Gueira have both had top surgery and are on T here, but nothing has been done below the belt. Note that I use words like "pussy" and "clit" as descriptors here.

“C’mere, c’mere.” Gueira’s hopping in his seat, bong clasped in one hand while the other waves rapidly at Galo, beckoning him closer. They’re barely a couple inches apart on the couch of Galo’s meager apartment, left alone in the living room while Lio and Meis went off to grab pizza in preparation for the inevitable munchies that would plague them given a little more time and a few more hits. Gueira’s still telling Galo to move instead of putting in the little bit of effort it would take him to scoot over towards him, though.

“What? Dude, I’m right here.” Galo breathes a laugh, but the most he does is lift his head and shrug at the other man on the couch. He’s sunk into the cushions, half-lidded eyes reddened from their continued smoking. He’s not going anywhere any time soon. 

“You’re  _ useless, _ ” Gueira jests, and he’s the one who finally puts the effort in to sit up and move. 

Which is of course a mistake. 

His head swims, the world turns. Gueira stumbles on his knees over to Galo, only to collapse right onto his chest. The vertigo of his high hits him the moment he gains some height, and it’s no wonder he finds his face shoved right into Galo’s pecs. Of course the prideful bastard wasn’t wearing a shirt again. Water sloshes in the bong, but somehow Gueira keeps his grip. 

“You good?” Galo asks, clearly unbothered. He helps Gueira sit up, until the redhead is balanced on one of his thighs. 

“Yeah, yeah. Your fat tits cushioned my fall perfectly.” Gueira finds his center when he follows with a laugh, the world realigning with a moment’s breath. He pats Galo’s chest just above one of his scars. “Now don’t move.”

Easier said than done. The leg that isn’t being sat on by Gueira is bouncing steadily--that tick that Galo was poor at managing even when sober, now even worse without the ability to properly focus. Gueira pays no mind, much too focused on the task at hand, which is properly balancing himself while he takes his lighter out of his pocket to bring it to the remaining grinds still sitting in the bong. He’s a little wobbly, but he manages to light his target and take a good deep breath of hot smoke. The sensation like embers blooming in his throat takes him back to a time not too long ago (and god, was this easier back then). 

Gueira’s lips go from touching glass to touching flesh. Galo expected it, yet the kiss still catches him off guard--and the dryness of smoke on his tongue when Gueira breathes past his parted lips. Smoke fills his mouth before Galo takes a beat to realize what he should be doing, and he inhales as his mouth melds against Gueira’s. 

They’ve kissed before. Playful things, sometimes outright jokes. The topic of fooling around came up once or twice, but only now does the subject seem relevant. Gueira doesn’t quite register the movement of his own hips as he tilts his head into their deepening kiss, but he’s begun to rut against the muscle of the thigh he’s straddling. His lighter is dropped somewhere in the cushions in favor of him curling a hand behind Galo’s head, fingertips rubbing at the pleasant feel of his buzzcut. Smoke seeps out between their lips when Gueira shoves his tongue further into Galo’s mouth. 

“Fuck,” Gueira breathes, breaking their kiss just so he can shove his bong on the table. The thing nearly tips over with the rushed motion, but he can’t care--he just wants so badly to touch the  _ stupid shirtless sexy _ man before him. 

He’s all over him when their lips collide again. Gueira’s both feeling up his chest and pulling him closer around his neck, and Galo lets out an enthusiastic “Mm!” at the sudden aggression. It’s hard for Galo to keep up when he’s foggier than usual up in that head of his, but Gueira doesn’t need much more than the way Galo’s curling a strong arm around his skinny waist and shoving his tongue back against his own. There’s hardly any rhythm to it all, but Gueira moans into it nonetheless. 

He’s practically humping Galo’s leg before the man parts from their hungry kiss, all flushed cheeks and wide blown-out pupils drowning the blue of his eyes. “You’re horny,” Galo states dumbly, to which Gueira laughs. 

“Oh shit? Is it terminal, doctor?” he jokes, and Gueira expects Galo to laugh, but the man’s eyes have gone downcast, seemingly off in his own world. Gueira looks down to see him staring at the bit of stomach that’s showing past his shirt that’s ridden up. Gueira snorts a laugh. “Might be contagious, too.”

Gueira urges Galo’s arm to loosen its hold so he can pull his shirt over his head. He’s such a skinny thing compared to Galo, even after putting on some healthy weight now that he’s eating right (his ribs are barely visible now), but the way Galo touches him once he’s half bare makes him feel like a well-sculpted statue. Large hands roam his tan skin, taking care to feel over every inch, and Gueira wonders if he’s always this thorough, or if it’s just the high taking hold. 

Gueira sighs when Galo kisses him again--this time on his collarbone. He’s right next to his tattoo, but he goes lower quickly, down his chest. He laves his tongue over a nipple, warm and pleasant, and Gueira shivers at the feeling, thin hands gripping at the muscle of Galo’s shoulders. He wants more, and Galo almost gives it to him, when one of those big hands travels down his center, fingers ghosting along the waistband of his leather pants. 

But Galo stops. “You cool with this?” he asks, and Gueira groans out of impatience, even if the request for reassurance is appreciated. 

“Dude, I’m so fucking  _ wet _ . Stick your hand down my pants if you wanna know just how cool I am with this.”

Galo does. Or...he tries too. The leather is too tight for him to get his knuckles past, and all he ends up reaching are dark curls, before Gueira huffs and helps him. Button and zipper undone with sloppy, eager motions, Gueira pushes his pants and tight briefs down just enough for Galo to slide his fingers between his thighs, just where he wants him. 

“Fuck…” It’s Galo’s turn to swear, as his fingers break a translucent strand that stretches from fabric to Gueira’s pussy. His digits are drenched with just a few passes between the folds, and every other subsequent motion is that much easier. Gueira’s so quick to pick up the pace of his hips from before, rutting against the hand that so deliberately touches him, and he tilts forward to press his forehead to Galo’s before he acquires a better angle to kiss him once more. 

Gueira moans noisily against Galo’s lips, his sounds grow louder whenever he opens his mouth for their tongues to touch and curl against one another. Galo starts to properly rub his fat clit between thumb and curled forefinger, and Gueira absolutely  _ keens _ , legs trembling around Galo’s thigh.  _ God _ , he’s good at this…

“Wanna…” Galo’s all caught up in their kiss, in the lightness of his intoxicated psyche. Words come to him slowly, between the passes of their tongues. “Wanna...taste you…” He groans, and there’s a cant to his own hips, where Gueira’s knee is bent between his thighs. “Can I…? Please?”

The plea makes Gueira shudder, makes his nails dig into Galo’s shoulders. How could he say no?

“ _ Fuck _ yes…” Gueira wastes no time. He leans back, a strand of saliva stretching between their lips before it snaps, and he lets himself fall back against the couch cushions to work on shoving his pants all the way off. Galo helps him after a beat, peeling the leather off of Gueira’s skinny legs before tossing the clothing aside. Galo finally gets a feel for just how wet he is himself when he shifts his position, better facing Gueira on the couch. His needs are an afterthought now though, and he moves to wrap his arms around Gueira’s thighs, but he’s stopped. 

“One sec.” Gueira holds up a hand in a halting motion, while the other reaches for his discarded lighter and then another hit. With no desire to lose this high of theirs, he’s pulling Galo back into another kiss--another pass of smoke between their lungs.

They breathe each other in, their temperatures rise. Gueira moans and lifts his hips, so quickly made impatient by his own request. He wants Galo. He’s wondering why they hadn’t done this sooner. 

Galo sucks on Gueira’s lower lip, dying it a flushed red, before he descends. The remaining smoke billows against Gueira’s skin when Galo presses his lips to his neck, to his collarbone, past his chest. Gueira’s hands find Galo’s wild hair, loosening it from the gel that maintains that ridiculous mohawk. Galo’s arms wrap under his thighs, and he lifts his hips eagerly, but he doesn’t expect the way Galo manhandles him into position. 

His ass is gripped to push it up, and his legs are urged over Galo’s shoulders until the man has his destination level with his face. Gueira bends an arm back to plant a palm against the cushions, steadying himself as he’s made to arch off of the couch, and he finds himself looking up along his own body to see Galo wetting his lips with an unfocused hunger in his dilated eyes. 

“C’mon, Fireboy. Show me that b- _ Ah.” _ Gueira gasps at the first warm, flat lick of tongue against him, and fingers grip tightly to blue strands. There’s a grin that tugs at the corners of his lips. “That burning fucking soul you never shut up about…!”

That’s the strike of the match. Galo’s eyes meet Gueira’s, determination flooding his gaze, and from there he’s ruthless. He pulls Gueira flush against his face in order to encompass him with his mouth, his tongue finding its home in the taste of him. He laps at him from slit to clit, swallowing as his mouth fills with saliva and the cum he coaxes from the other man so sweetly, before he focuses exactly where Gueira needs him. 

Galo sucks hard on his fat clit, pulling a strained high-pitched moan out from the other man. It almost hurts how hard Gueira is tugging on his hair now, but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up as he circles and flicks his tongue along the throbbing flesh he warms so thoroughly between his lips. His chin is so quickly soaked, bold droplets sliding down his neck, and Galo only beckons more with every movement of his tongue. 

And Gueira is so quickly made a mess. Galo feels as though he’s barely started, and yet Gueira’s thighs squeeze at either side of his head, and the hips he holds squirm and twitch. Galo had an idea that Gueira was noisy (he’d overheard him once, behind a door he’d watched Meis close behind them), but to hear his loud moans and swears along his body was an experience. 

He’s like a bull, Galo thinks for one comical moment. A noisy, rearing bull not of rage, but of desperation. 

“Galo...Galo, _ fuck _ …!” Gueira’s hips buck, thighs clenching and unclenching around Galo’s head, chasing. “So close, so fucking close, c’mon…!”

Galo’s got the picture, and he chases that same end--except, the chase is cut short. He’s only just begun to change the direction of his tongue along Gueira’s dripping pussy before the man is shaking and shouting and shoving Galo hard against him, trapping him exactly where he needs him to be. Galo doesn’t protest, and nor does he stop his incessant lapping against his clit, as Gueira rides out his orgasm on his handsome face. 

Hands ruthlessly rake Galo’s hair from its spikes, and his name is chanted again and again in gasps. Gueira shudders all the way through, until all he can manage is breathless murmurs of, “Too much, too much,” and just as he’d been pulling Galo closer, he’s then pushing him away.

Galo manages one last, long lick along the full length of Gueira’s pussy, which draws out a whine from the overstimulation, and only then does he back off fully. It’s then, as the two of them pant and sigh, that Galo realized just how hard he’d been holding onto Gueira’s hips, and so his grip loosens. He lowers Gueira onto the couch, before he brings a hand up to wipe his own face. He’s drenched from his lips and down to length of his throat. 

“Man, you didn’t even let me get off my signature move!” Galo whines, pouting at the other man. He’d finished so quickly, it completely caught him off guard. 

“Signature move?” Gueira breathes a laugh, while his body sinks comfortably into the couch cushions, briefly sated. “Please don’t tell me you have a name for i-”

“Relentless Licks of Fla-”

Gueira kicks Galo square in the jaw--not hard enough to deal any real damage, but definitely enough to shut him right up. “I  _ cannot _ believe Boss fell for you.”

Galo just whines, shoving Gueira’s foot away. “I make you cum in like, less than a minute, and this is the thanks I get?”

“Don’t feel special. That’s how it always is for me.”

There’s a pause, before Galo almost snorts a laugh. “Are you saying you’re always that easy?”

The flustered state that takes over Gueira is instant--all bright blushing and tense shoulders. “Sh-shut up!” His voice cracks at a high pitch. “I’m not easy! Stop running that stupid mouth and go get your dick!”

“My dick?”

“You have one, right? A strap?”

“Oh…” Galo runs a hand through his already messed hair. A grin breaks over his features. “You wanna get fucked by the great Galo Thymos, huh? Wasn’t enough just to experience my Burning M-”

Another kick, this time in his stomach. It knocks the air right out of him.  _ “Please.” _ Gueira tilts his head back over the arm of the couch. “I can feel my pussy drying up whenever you start saying dumb shit.”

“Alright, alright,” Galo relents with a few laughs, finally standing up from the couch. It’s then his turn to make that particular mistake, for his high comes rushing back to him in that very instant. He almost falls right over, barely catching the coffee table as he takes a knee, but he makes himself stand back up just after. His steps are a wobbly pattern, before he catches the walls at the start of the short hallways towards his bedroom. His head swims and fogs right up with the vertigo, but he presses on. 

...And when Galo comes back, his clothes discarded and his strap secured to his hips, Gueira is sitting up with the bong in his hands again. Fresh grinds burn and fill the chamber with smoke, and a hearty inhale precedes an impressively large cloud from Gueira’s lips. His auburn eyes, reddened still, glance to Galo, and the sight of him has him coughing. 

“Oh...Holy _ shit. _ ” He’s looking right at Galo’s dick--the whole white and red length of it, and how it adorns Galo’s hips with light green straps. It looks exactly like his Matoi were it turned into a sex toy. “Does this one come with a powerpoint too?”

Galo’s face lights right up, and he nearly turns right back around in his excitement.

“No! No no, don’t you  _ fucking _ dare. Get your ass over here and fuck me already, Fireboy.”

That nickname has Galo grinning wide, and he heeds Gueira’s beckoning, couch cushions sinking as his weight is added back onto them. “Yeah? Just like the first time we really came face-to-face, right? I fucked you pretty good back then-”

“Fuck you!” Gueira’s shoving the bong and lighter into Galo’s hands regardless. “I  _ let _ you, remember? All planned!”

The two are both laughing now, and Galo only stops to take a good long hit. Gueira’s giggles are incessant, drawn out by the pleasant highs of both drug and release. He’s only muffled by Galo’s lips on his own, drawn into the same kind of kisses he’d given to Galo earlier. The smoke tastes sweeter now, somehow. 

And there’s still the sharp taste of himself on those lips, as they meld with his own. Still on his tongue, as they curl and twist together. The bong is on the table again by the time Gueira’s wrapping his arms around Galo’s neck and pressing close to him. He fits his thin body against Galo’s muscled form, and as he tilts his head for a new angle to their kiss, he presses forward. He leans Galo back, he climbs atop him--until Galo’s head tips back against the back cushions from how deep their kiss has become. Galo’s hands find Gueira’s sides, his hips--feeling over him once more, reminding himself of the shape of him. Thumbs massage circles into the pronounced lines of his hips, working him back up, and Gueira moans eagerly into his mouth. 

“You...You’re cool with this right?” Gueira’s already straddling Galo’s hips, the head of his strap brushing against dark curls. “Fucking me?”

“Yeah…” Galo doesn’t really know why he’s asking--it’s kind of obvious, isn’t it? But he answers honestly nonetheless. “You’re sexy, you know?...Thought that first time we met for real, after everything with saving the world...We shoulda done this sooner…”

A smirk tugs at Gueira’s lips, the kiss fading between their conversation, as he shifts and positions Galo’s strap where he wants him. Galo’s hands are there to steady him at his hips when he starts to take him. “Ah...Keep the compliments coming, big guy.”

Galo’s beaming, catching on very quickly to what makes Gueira tick. “Yeah, I didn’t realize how hot you were until I got to see you stand next to Lio. I think I told him that, too, actually. I asked him if he knew how hot you were--Meis, too.” 

Galo’s rambling gets no words in response--only strained little moans, and the eager shifts of Gueira’s hips until he’s completely seated in his lap. Galo rubs his hands up Gueira’s thighs and hips, letting him sit still and adjust, and he doesn’t stop running his mouth. “He told me something like, ‘I know better than you might think,’ and I think I’m starting to get what he was on about.”

Gueira’s begun to rock his hips, grinding down on Galo’s dick. “Yeah?” is all he manages between his ever heightening moans. He already looks so far gone, his eyes half-lidded, his hands clenching at Galo’s shoulders. He tries to get the angle right, and every so often he does, pulling little trembles and sighs from him. 

“Yeah. Look at you now, right? I’m having a hell of a hard time staying still with you on my dick like this…” 

“Fuck...Then fucking  _ move _ …” Gueira tries to lift his hips and bounce a little on the cock in him, but he can only get so far with the way he’s splayed out over Galo’s lap. He wants to so bad--wants to get fucked so good, while Galo rambles praises in his ear that are already working him back up at breakneck speeds. Damn, maybe he _ is _ easy…

It’s a fleeting thought, evaporated in the instant that Galo snaps his hips up. Gueira’s back straightens with the sudden, perfect thrust, exactly where he wanted him. And Galo doesn’t stop there, doesn’t take longer than a second to do it again--and again, and again. 

“So hot…” Galo’s fingers are tight on Gueira’s hips, and loose blue strands fall in his face when he tilts his head forward, pressing a kiss to the corner of Gueira’s lips. He continues to speak against his cheek, over his jaw, and his own little grunts find their way between his words. There’s a piece on the inside of Galo’s strap, pressed inside him just deep enough to feel good, and every thrust of his hips brings with it pleasant friction. “Like you like this…”

Gueira turns his head, like he’s about to say something, or maybe kiss Galo, but all he manages are whines. Galo feels good, sounds good, and he has Gueira holding back his second quickly approaching orgasm just to experience this for longer. “Fu... _ Ah… _ ”

“Don’t you go off before I use my signature move again,” Galo chides, just as he’s starting to feel the very way Gueira tenses and breathes his restraint. “Hold on.”

Galo doesn’t bother trying to list off names for his moves this time--he’s gotta keep Gueira in the mood, he gets it. He urges Gueira off his lap, which earns him a huff and a “Hey!” but he doesn’t leave the man empty for long. He gets Gueira laying back on the couch, lifts one of his legs to give him access to his gorgeous, dripping pussy again, and his cock is back in him well before the absence can sink in. 

“Yeah…C’mon, Fireboy.” Gueira’s gained his voice again, if only for a moment. Hazy eyes look up at Galo, and he rolls his hips in a way that makes Galo’s lips part in awe. “Make me cum on your big cock.”

Galo’s grinning again, Gueira’s taunting making that fire flare in him, and he sets off with fucking him good and hard into the couch cushions. Gueira’s made into a mess of moans and high-pitched whines just a few thrusts in, his hands reaching up for Galo again, clawing at his back and shoulders. He rocks into every motion, chasing his release, wanting all Galo’s willing to give him right then and there. 

“So hot, so fucking hot...Gueira…” Galo’s the only one out of the two who can speak now, and even he struggles between gasps of exertion. It’s all worth the struggle though, when he sees Gueira arch, when he feels him start to tense and shake and jerk his hips wildly. He’s so damn close, he doesn’t have to tell Galo for him to know.

It’s only when Gueira cums, just as Galo hits that perfect angle, that the man is completely silent. Gueira’s mouth is ajar, head tipped back, eyes squeezed shut, and he is quiet as his body tenses, toes curling. Galo’s thrusts have slowed, but they haven’t lost their potency, still fucking the entire length into Gueira as he rides out his second orgasm. He unravels into shudders and breathless whines, his hips twitching for just a few more sweet sparks of blinding pleasure, before he slows and stills completely. 

Galo pulls out, his core burning with the not-enough pressure from the small cock that’s been rubbing at his slick insides this whole time. He’s pulling at the straps of his dick in an unsteady hurry, chasing his own needs now. He doesn’t expect a second pair of hands on him though, when he finally pulls himself free of the toy. 

“God, you’re fucking  _ drenched. _ ” Gueira’s fingers are tugging at his hole and rubbing at his clit in tandem, so eager to please. His movements are quick, skilled,  _ perfect _ after how patient Galo’s been. Galo spreads his legs wide, leans back enough to cant his hips up, desperate for it. “Yeah, c’mon. You deserve this, big guy. C’mon, cum already…”

It doesn’t take much more than that. Galo is gone with a noisy moan of “Gueira” spilling from him, and he rides those fingers for as long as that white hot pleasure overtakes him. He tenses in waves, muscles clenching, until eventually both he and Gueira are mere puddles on that abused couch. 

The smell of sex mingles with the scent of weed when all the two can manage to fill the room with are their shared panting. Gueira leans his head against Galo’s shoulder, and Galo tilts his cheek into the fluffy black and red of Gueira’s hair, and from there it’s just warm, pleasant basking. 

“...You two hungry?”

The two jerk into alertness, eyes that had so gently closed now snapping right back open. Lio and Meis stand at the entryway, the taller of the two with pizza boxes in his hands. There’s a knowing smirk on each of their faces. 

“Haha, whoops! Didn’t hear you two come in,” Galo says, tone apologetic. He rubs at his cheek awkwardly, a lop-sided grin on his face. 

“We could tell,” Lio assures, walking forward to lean over the coffee table. He runs a hand through Galo’s messed blue spikes, and uses the other to ruffle Gueira’s hair. The two lean into the touches like affectionate cats. “Now, are you going to eat with us with your pants on or off?”

Galo and Gueira snicker at the question, and Meis comes in with the food set on the coffee table. He sits next to Gueira on the couch, unbothered by the man’s sweaty state when he leaves a kiss at his cheek. “Just so you know, next time  _ you two _ are getting the pizza while  _ me and Boss _ fuck.”

Gueira whines at that. “But-”

“It’s only fair.” Lio makes Galo scoot over so he can fit with the rest of them. He grabs for the bong before any food, and hears no argument as he takes his first hit of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on twitter @creates_god !


End file.
